


Love Is

by ruin (ruinrunes)



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Incest, Love - Miles POV, M/M, Non-Explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinrunes/pseuds/ruin
Summary: Love is… love is everything. It’s that’s warmth in all your limbs when you wake up tucked up under your uncle's arm. It’s that way your chest gets all tight and hurty when he peppers your face with kisses and tells you he loves you most.The soft way he smiles at you when he says it - like he means it, like you don’t have any reason to believe otherwise.
Relationships: Aaron Davis/Miles Morales
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> a second person pov writing exercise from miles perspective for a wonderful cherished friend.

Your understanding of love is both wonderfully complex and childishly simple. 

Love is… love is everything. It’s that’s warmth in all your limbs when you wake up tucked up under your uncle's arm. It’s that way your chest gets all tight and hurty when he peppers your face with kisses and tells you he loves you  _ most _ . The soft way he smiles at you when he says it - like he means it, like you don’t have any reason to believe otherwise. 

Love is when your uncle will buy you  _ two _ toys for your birthday instead of just one. Love is letting you finish his ice cream cone even though you’d already demolished your own - the one  _ he _ bought you. Love is riding up on his shoulders when you’re too tired to walk the rest of the way home, curling your chubby thighs around his neck and giggling when his beard tickles at the delicate skin. Love is when he lets you stay up two hours after your bedtime, tucked up on his lap sleepy and full of snacks and protected. 

Love is the way he loves you. Love is the way you love him.

Love is the two of you, together, always. 

Love is happiness. 

Love is Uncle Aaron. 

You have a lot of love in you, for something so small. You love daddy and mommy, and you  _ really  _ love Mr. Stuffie. You love your friends, and you like your new teacher. You’ve never had a teacher before! You're very excited about this new love. 

But all that love is secondary, background. You can’t categorize love yet, but you can differentiate. You can tell the way you love Aaron is different from that, special and sacred somehow. Something bigger than yourself - something bigger than both of you. 

So when you spot him, waving from a distance at the end of the block, you don’t even feel your dad’s hand slip from yours as you go careening towards Aaron. You throw yourself at him with the trust of someone who’s never been dropped, someone who knows Aaron will always be there to catch him. 

And he does. Sweeps you up into his arms like you weigh nothing at all, broad, generous smile splitting his face as he sing-songs: “Hey little man. Miss me?” 

Your arms fit around his shoulders like they were always meant to be there, snug and perfect. Made for you. You melt into his hold, matching grin as you knock your forehead against his. 

“Not as much as you missed me!” You say confidently, growing giddy when Aaron’s smile goes softer, more indulgent. His eyes flicker behind you, past you, just for a moment, squinting at something before he surges forward, presses a quick kiss to your mouth that makes you gasp in shock.

Uncle Aaron never kisses you outside! Not on the lips! Not like the adults do! What if -

“I always miss you.” Aaron says, right as your dad’s voice booms out behind you strong and loud. 

“Kid takes off like a rocket every time he sees you.” Your dad grouses, and Aaron readjusts you so you’re clinging to his hip, half sat on the jut of it as the adults talk.

“You sound jealous,” Aarons says, in that voice that means he’s teasing. It makes you smile automatically, pressing your nose into his neck and inhaling the scent of him. So similar to your dad, yet so different. Deeper and headier. 

“Trust me once I learn what your secret is, it’s over for you.” Jeff says, passing Aaron your backpack with a laugh. You’d forgotten he’d been holding it, and your cheeks color in embarrassment at such little-kid behavior. 

Aaron snorts, jolting you against his chest and you sit up, leaning back to watch his face as he offers your dad a smile with layers beyond your years. There’s something private there, like a joke you can’t figure out. 

“C’mon Jeff, let me keep some of my mystery.”

“You’re just scared a new favorite’s in town.” Your dad puffs up his chest as he says this, sparing you a wry glance as your mouth drops open and your brows furrow in offence. 

“Uncle Aaron is  _ always _ going to be my favorite,” You mumble, petulant and small. Aaron squeezes you for your trouble, dropping a kiss to the dimple of your cheek before shrugging at your dad. 

“You heard it here first, folks.”

Your dad rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile there too, and he settles his hands on your curls and pats them once before he’s waving the both of you off. 

“Bring him back in one piece Aaron or so help me -”

“You know I treat him like my own,” Aaron says, and the sentence makes your tummy flip all funny, makes you feel too hot and too cold at once. You shiver, wrapping tight around your favorite person in the whole world. 

You have a bit of trouble focusing on the last of the conversation. Aaron’s hand is rubbing soothingly up and down your back, catching on your shirt and slipping up, high, stroking skin casually as he speaks to your dad. 

You try not to whine, you’re a good boy, you know you’re supposed to keep quiet when you’re not safe within the walls of Aaron’s apartment. But it’s hard, real hard. Aaron’s hands are warm and big and cosy. They make you feel at home, but they also make you feel all tingly and excited.

You’ve spent almost every weekend with Aaron since before you can remember, and that touch has always come with the promise of sweetness and love. Makes you feel good in ways your young brain can barely handle. 

So you press up tighter to him, humming something high and quiet as he touches you, as he talks about you, as you lose yourself in the wave of him - his voice, his hands, crashing over you and dragging you into the depth of him. 

This, you think, must be what love is. Getting lost in someone. Finding a quiet space in them made just for you. 

You love your family. You love your friends. 

But Uncle Aaron, well, you’re starting to think there has to be a bigger word for how he makes you feel. 


End file.
